Both Fang and Fire
by Erestor
Summary: A dog falls into MiddleEarth instead of her beautiful, but stupid, owner. She meets the obnoxiously charming Glorfindel and becomes involved in the happenings at Rivendell. EDITED February '07.
1. The Fall

**Both Fang and Fire **

by Erestor

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing pertaining to _The Lord of the Rings_. All the Elves, Men, Hobbits and Dwarves belong to Tolkien. All the dogs and most of the horses belong to me. All mistakes are my own.

**Second Disclaimer:** I had just posted this story when I found another very similar. It was called 'Dog Days'. I changed the name of my dog to 'Ginger' instead of the original 'Sandy' so that there wouldn't be any mistakes. Apart from that, the plots take different directions, so it should be all right.

**Author's Note (February 3rd, 2007): **At this point, I've edited Chapters 1-7. My main intent was to correct the grammar and flow of the story, not its admittedly weird plotlines and plot devices. If I have the time I'll try to edit the last three chapters.

I hope you enjoy!

**CHAPTER ONE**

Ginger walked down the sidewalk, trying to decide whether it was more mortifying to wear a bright pink collar that scratched her throat, or to have a human who talked loudly and incessently about a man called "Leggy-Pooh".

For a German shepherd of high lineage, a pink collar and a demented human were similarly mortifying. Ginger's lineage was high indeed: her mother had worked alongside human police officers, and her father had spent his life selflessly assisting the blind. If they had seen their lovely little daughter walking down the road with such an idiot in tow, they would have promptly disowned her, and with good reason.

Ginger had a high code of honor. She could not let her human come to harm, nor could she shirk her duty, nor could she act as embarrassed as she felt.

Any other dog would have been cringing, tail between their legs, but not Ginger. Her fine plumed tail waved cheerfully in the breeze, her pink tongue protruded daintily from her mouth, and her dark eyes were bright with her love of life. It was a wonderful morning and she could almost forget the simpering girl that tagged behind her.

Ginger's human, Mary-Lou, wanted to 'get thin', and therein lay the problem. Her daily walks with Ginger were supposed to achieve this goal, but instead they involved going past the houses of every boy Mary-Lou knew. The girl would mince along, fluttering her eyelashes at all and sundry, frequently tripping over her high heels.

Perhaps Mary-Lou was pretty. A lot of boys seemed to think so. She had long blonde hair and green eyes (contacts), a beautiful singing voice (nobody was certain of this trait; they all escaped when she announced she was going to perform) and a tall and shapely form.

At least, Mary-Lou had been shapely until she discovered and devoured many bags of a tasty snack food. This had been the end of her shapeliness, so now daily walks were in order.

"Nice dog you got there," some boy said casually. Ginger pricked up her ears.

"Thanks," Mary-Lou said. She looked as though she would rather have compliments showered on her than on her pet.

"So, would you like to go out to that party with me?" He was still casual, his hands thrust deep into his pockets.

"Oh, Ken, I thought you'd never ask!" Mary-Lou said, almost squealing in delight.

"What strange names humans have," Ginger thought. "Give me a fellow called Rover anytime."

Ken trudged off, Ginger watching him with narrowed eyes. She wondered about Mary-Lou's taste in young men at times. Take 'Leggy-Pooh' for example. His parents had obviously been crazy to give him such a name. Ginger had seen pictures of him too, dressed in green, always looking clean and perfect.

The man that Ginger liked was rarely seen in Mary-Lou's house. His name, according to her owner, was 'just Strider'.

That was a good name... Not quite Rover, of course.

He looked like the sort of person who would throw sticks for a dog. He looked as though he would not care if he got dirty. He looked brave and handsome, for a human. At times, Ginger wished she could meet him.

Mary-Lou suddenly ceased to prattle, and started to stare at an open manhole with an expression of delight plastered on her pretty face. "Look, Ginger!" she cried. "A portal to Middle-Earth!"

"It looks like an open manhole to me," Ginger thought.

Unfortunately for the dog, Mary-Lou's list of accomplishments did not include telepathy. She tottered towards the hole.

"It's suicide!" Ginger thought, leaping to the only logical conclusion. She knew her training. She couldn't let her crazy human kill herself like this. It would bring great dishonor upon her and all her kind.

The brave hound jumped between Mary-Lou and the manhole, teeth bared. "Don't do it!" she thought.

"Stupid dog," Mary-Lou said. "Get out of my way! I'm going to see Leggy-Pooh!"

Ginger growled. "I'll bite you, you silly girl," she thought.

Mary-Lou burst into tears. "I have to get to Middle-Earth. This is my only chance," she said, unwilling to risk a bite, yet willing to fling herself into a manhole if she could. "Let me go, Ginger. Get out of the way."

Ginger growled in reply.

Mary-Lou kept on making little feints towards the hole. Suddenly she rushed her dog.

"I have to see Leggy-Pooh!" she yelled. "I have to marry him!"

Startled, Ginger took a step back, lost her precarious footing, and tumbled into the manhole with a yelp of surprise.

* * *

Ginger was not a cat, but she knew how to land on her feet. The dog twisted in mid-air, plunging through the darkness. She seemed to be falling farther than she thought reasonable. Could a manhole really be this deep?

"Not that I would know," Ginger thought. "I've never fallen down one before."

Then she landed, not on hard cement, as she had expected, but instead on a soft patch of grass. Momentarily winded, the dog struggled for breath, whimpering.

As soon as she could breathe again, Ginger tried to stand, only to fall down once more. Her paw hurt. She began to lick it gently as she lay curled on the moss. As she did so, she realized she was no longer wearing a collar. That much was good. Very good.

After some time had passed, she heard the sound of footsteps, and later, the sound of people speaking. Dogs are naturally endowed with the ability to understand at least the essence of a tongue. She knew what the speakers meant, if not what they were actually saying.

"The Halflings are becoming tired," came a voice, deep and rough in a kindly manly way.

"We cannot halt. They are not far behind." The second voice was soft but forceful. The way the speaker said 'they' made a shiver run down Ginger's spine to the very tip of her tail.

After a few moments of silence the first voice spoke again. "There's something in the bushes."

"I do not think it means us harm, Dúnadan," the second voice said. "It is only some small animal." 

Small? That was insulting. Ginger drew herself up as best she could. She would show the second voice she wasn't small!

Filled with indignation, Ginger limped bravely out towards the speakers.

There were more than two people walking that road, though only two had been speaking. Ginger saw a white horse with a child on his back, and three people following. ("_They're_ small," thought Ginger.) A tired brown pony ended the procession.

Ginger glanced, and then stared, at the man walking beside the white horse. "It's Strider!" she thought in delight, her heart leaping. "...Though the second voice called him 'Dúnadan'..." 

She turned her attention to the owner of the second voice, a fair being beside Strider. The way he walked was distinctly feline; his bright eyes and aloof air reminded Ginger of her nemesis, a cat named Whiskers.

Ginger's fur began to stand on end. She had never liked cats very much.

"What a beautiful hound," Dúnadan said. 

The second voice glanced at Ginger. "A tame one, I see."

"I think she's hurt," Dúnadan said. 

"We cannot linger," the cat person said. "We must move on." He shifted his weight lightly, shooting a look at the three small people that followed him. Ginger watched him. This person knew they were in danger, and, for some grudging reason, she believed him.

"You've been driving the Halflings for almost two days," Ginger's new hero said.

"Dúnadan, you must listen to me." The second voice was strained. After glancing anxiously this way and that, he dropped down beside the dog, running a cursory eye along her. "Her paw has been injured. It's nothing serious," he said. 

"Not serious?" Ginger thought, baring her teeth at the graceful being.

"If you wish to take this dog to Imladris with you, she will have to be able to walk," he said. He picked up her paw and rubbed it briskly with his other hand.

The pain receded instantly. Ginger stared at him in shock. What had he done? She tested the injured paw warily, and discovered that she was quite all right, which was a pleasant surprise.

His good deed accomplished, the second voice stood again and stroked the white horse's nose.

"Come on, hobbits," Strider said. "We're almost there."

Ginger had never heard of hobbits, but they sounded strange. She bounded along at Strider's feet, pouncing playfully at the second voice's feet now and then.

"What a strange procession we are," the horse thought.

Ginger pricked back her ears. "Who is the cat person?"

"Glorfindel? He is an Elf. Does he make you think of a cat?" The very slightest hint of a laugh trickled through the horse's thoughts. "I am called Asfaloth. Who are you?"

"Ginger," the dog replied. "Who's the pony?"

"Bill." This time the laugh was a more definite thing. The white horse tossed his head. "He's a good pony. A faithful creature."

After they had walked for a few more minutes, Asfaloth stiffened. Beside him, Ginger felt a sudden tension in the air, coupled with the feeling that something very bad was about to happen.

Glorfindel halted, a look of alarm flitting across his face. Before Ginger was quite sure she had seen aright, the Elf cried, "Fly! The enemy is here!"

Asfaloth had leapt into a gallop before he was done speaking. The hobbits were terrified, but they ran down the sloping path faster than Ginger would have guessed.

Then she felt IT -- a dark shadow on her mind, pressing inward until her mind bent beneath ITS power. IT was terror and dread and loathing, and the most primitive instinct in her told her run with the others or bolt back into the bushes. She became aware of a strangled whimper issuing from her throat. Her tail tucked behind her legs. She cringed as no dog of her line had ever cringed before.

Then They came, riding on black steeds, as dark as Their blackest thoughts. Asfaloth halted, and Their horses halted as well.

Ginger watched, transfixed with horror.

Glorfindel and Strider ran behind the hobbits as a rearguard, Glorfindel commanding his horse to go on. Ginger realized that Asfaloth had not frozen in fear, but his rider appeared to be considering something.

Glorfindel cried out one last time, his command undeniable. "Ride hard, Asfaloth!"

Asfaloth ran again.

The hobbits cowered back against the trees as They went bursting through, chasing the brave white horse that carried what they desired. Ginger felt bold enough to offer Them one angry yip.

"Fire," Glorfindel said, gasping for breath. "They fear it."

"What about Frodo?" Strider asked. The two ran down the path quickly, the hobbits, pony, and dog sprinting behind them.

"Lord Elrond will flood the river," Glorfindel said. "We must have fire."

Strider pulled out flint and steel and knocked the two things together, holding a rotten tree limb between his knees. Glorfindel yanked the tools out of his hands.

"No time to lose," the Elf said. He struck the flint against the steel, setting the tree limb alight and touching his own torch to it. "Come on. If Asfaloth cannot save the Halfling, nothing will."

Glorfindel took a deep breath and drew his sword. Strider did the same. Then the two warriors, and Ginger, who dashed along behind, hurried down the slope.

They were standing by the river, Their horses rearing in panic as water rushed around them. Ginger was glad to see that They feared something. Already one horse was rolling over and over in the water, its rider screaming in a horrible voice. The black cloak emptied as the water dragged it down and the screeching stopped.

The Elf had begun to glow. He whirled into the midst of the nine riders, his bright torch seeming to fill them with terror again. Strider fought alongside the Elf, and They feared him as well.

Ginger looked for Asfaloth and saw him standing like a white statue on the far shore. Even as she watched, the thin bundle on his back slipped off and fell into the water below.

**To Be Continued...**


	2. The Dog

**Both Fang and Fire **

by Erestor

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing pertaining to _The Lord of the Rings._

**

* * *

**

CHAPTER TWO

No sooner had the hobbit fallen into its embrace than the river's rushing torrent slowed. Ginger dashed through the now-shallow water, the Elf coming behind, followed by Strider.

The hobbit, Frodo, lay face down in the water. Ginger licked him anxiously, tugging at his hood with her clean white teeth. Glorfindel scooped the hobbit up into his arms.

"Is he dead?" Strider asked quietly.

"He may be," Glorfindel replied, his voice strained. "Or worse."

"Worse than dead?" Ginger thought. "What a grim individual this Elf is."

Nonetheless, she could see the Halfling's pale, pale face, and she wondered if there could possibly be a 'worse than dead'.

"I fear we may be too late," Glorfindel said, brushing the fair hair away from the Halfling's face and frowning. "We must take him to Lord Elrond at once."

"I will," Strider said.

The Elf shook his head. "Go tend to the other Halflings. I will do this."

Glorfindel set off slowly. Ginger wondered if he ever got tired. Any human would have been gasping for breath after such a frantic run. She trotted after him, through the woods and along a narrow path.

The narrow path became bigger, and soon it became a road. The Elf continued to walk. Ginger panted, and the water on her fur dried. The Elf continued to walk, gliding smoothly along the path. He never changed his speed and he never so much as jostled the hobbit he carried.

Finally Ginger and the Elf entered civilization: a number of thatched cottages and longer buildings. "Lord Elrond!" Glorfindel called. "We need healers immediately!"

Other Elves, all so much like cats, hurried into the courtyard.

An Elf, who seemed to be their leader, took the hobbit from Glorfindel. "You have done much. You should rest," he said.

Glorfindel ran his fingers through his yellow hair. "I cannot rest yet. The Dúnadan is coming with the others," he said. He glanced down at Ginger. "Could someone find somewhere for this dog?" he asked. "She seems anxious for a home here." 

With that, the Elf turned and disappeared into the crowd.

"I like that!" Ginger thought. "Anxious for a home here, indeed! I should have nipped his ankles while I had the chance." But she liked the second voice anyway.

An Elf came forward. He had large grey eyes, and a white face made paler by his jet-black hair. "I'll take the dog," he said.

Ginger sighed. So she was still The Dog.

How fun.

* * *

The new Elf's name was Erestor. He appeared to be a very harassed individual. He took Ginger to his private quarters and found her something to eat and somewhere to sleep, looking all the time as though something else were on his mind. Eventually he actually noticed her.

"You're a beautiful dog," he said, stroking her ears. "I've always wanted a pet, though Estel will probably claim you sooner or later."

Ginger thumped her tail tiredly.

"I wonder what Estel would call you," the Elf said. He seemed to know she could understand him, but he also seemed preoccupied. "If you're lucky, he'll call you Huan. If you're not lucky, he'll call you something outrageous. He never was much good with names."

Ginger yawned and Erestor smiled. "There was a caterpillar once," he said reminiscently. "He named it Frond. That was early on, though. Then there was a frog, called Spliffer. Do not ask me why."

Ginger hoped she wouldn't be named Spliffer, or anything at all similar.

"Maybe Mudpuddle," Erestor said. "That sounds like him. For him to call you that, I mean. Mud _Face_ is more descriptive of _him_."

Rather belatedly, Ginger realized that Estel was Strider. All the Elves she'd met had seemed incredibly clean, not at all like people who Erestor would call Mud Face.

"We'll just have to wait and find out," Erestor said.

The Elf did not speak after that, but stared out through his window in the direction of the infirmary.

* * *

Ginger discovered that Strider had decided to call her Carca, which apparently meant Fang in Elvish. Erestor sighed when he heard the news. ("Never was good with names," he said.) However, the fact that Ginger had a name, though an unimaginative one, meant that things were better again. Three long days had passed, but now everything was all right. After all, she had a name!

"I think Carca was one of his better names," Glorfindel said carelessly when he came to see how Erestor (not Ginger) was doing.

"Perhaps. Though you never bore the brunt of his spontaneous nicknames," Erestor said, buttering his bread and slipping Carca a piece under the table.

Glorfindel arched one yellow eyebrow. "You do not think 'Glorfy' was bad?" he asked.

Erestor sighed, looking as though he had heard that question often. Carca suspected he had. "Glorfy was bad," Erestor said, "but I always loathed the way he would call me 'Ressi'."

"Of course," Glorfindel said, grinning complacently over his own sticky slice of bread, "perhaps it was because he always ran when he saw you. 'Not Ressi', he would cry. I remember it all clearly."

"The child was three," Erestor said, frowning.

"He always loved me."

"You gave him candy."

"And you didn't," Glorfindel said lightly.

After this, the conversation grew much less interesting, at least from Carca's point of view. The two Elves stopped bickering and started discussing the Ringbearer (Frodo) and his condition. Apparently he was recovering.

Carca was glad to hear the good news. She wondered if she would ever see the Ringbearer again. After all, she thought smugly, she had helped save him.

* * *

With Frodo feeling better, Erestor acted much less worried and harrassed. After his lunch with Glorfindel, he let Carca run around outside all by herself.

Erestor smiled one of his rare smiles as he watched Carca trot into one of the courtyards. "Don't bite anyone," he said. He almost seemed to know of the way she had been viewing Glorfindel's boots. But that was impossible, wasn't it?

With Elves, maybe anything was possible.

Carca explored Imladris for a long time and decided that she liked the Elves. They had good taste. None of their buildings were tight or confining. Everyone she met gave her a pat or a few words of praise. All the Elves seemed to know her name.

"Hello, Carca," an Elf said as she poked her nose into a nearby bush. "How are you?"

Carca wagged her tail in reply, thinking, "I'm very well, thank you."

The Elf grinned at her.

"This is a smart dog," he said to his companion. "Estel found her."

"Did he?" the other Elf. "That's nice."

Growing bored by the conversation, Carca hurried away to chase a butterfly. She was only interested in Elves that gave her snacks.

* * *

By the time shadows were slanting low along the ground, Carca was completely acquainted with Imladris. She knew it like the tip of her tail and was confident that she could find her way around it at any time.

The Elves were partying. She could hear them singing and talking and laughing in one of their feasting halls. She wondered if Glorfindel were there, and if Erestor had come as well. She wondered if Glorfindel could sing, and if he had nice voice. She wondered if Strider had cleaned himself before attending. Maybe big parties weren't his thing.

Suddenly, her keen ears heard the sound of horses entering the courtyard. Carca rushed to a good vantage point and looked down at the arriving company.

It did not look very grand. The first person to come into the courtyard was walking, with his horse plodding behind him. His garments, though once fine, were dirty and torn, though somehow he looked better groomed and better bred that Strider. "He probably has a strange human name too," Carca thought. But he appeared to be very nice, and dogs can sense things like this.

Carca barked, her voice filled with authority. "Someone has arrived!" her bark said. "Whoever you are, halt!"

The man did halt, glancing up towards the sound, shading his eyes with his hand, even though the sun had nearly set. He looked tired, and Carca felt sorry for him. She trotted down into the courtyard, tail swishing pleasantly at his legs, staring up at him with dark eager eyes, her tongue sticking out cheerfully.

He reached down and stroked her soft fur. "What a lovely dog you are," he said softly. He looked around and muttered, almost to himself, "So this is the home of the Elves."

A light danced down from one of the higher balconies. "Greetings, stranger. Welcome to the Last Homely House,"a soft voice said. "I am Erestor."

This meant that Erestor had not been attending the party after all.

"I am Boromir, son of Denethor," the man said.

Erestor bowed. "I have heard of you. You must be tired, my lord." Carca watched. It amused her sometimes, the way humans (and Elves too, it seemed) showed deference to each other.

"I am tired," Boromir said. "The road has been long."

"And hard," Erestor said, his eyes flickering to the torn cloak.

The man followed Erestor's gaze to the tear, and winced. "Dirty too," he said, with a suddenly smile.

Carca liked him for that. She liked the way he had brushed away any feelings of inferiority, and managed to find humor in the situation.

"Come in and rest," Erestor said. "I will find rooms for you and your men, and lodgings for your horses also."

Boromir reached up to pat his horse, the absent gesture reminding Carca of Glorfindel. "Acorn has had a hard time of it, I fear," he said.

Acorn? Humans were so very strange when it came to names. Carca would have snorted, if it had not been impolite to do so.

"Is that your dog?" asked Boromir, as Carca followed them back into Imladris.

"She is everyone's dog, I think," Erestor said. "Estel found her, Lord Glorfindel fixed her hurt paw, and I am caring for her at the present time. Who will keep her in the end? No one is quite certain."

"I had a dog like her once," Boromir said. He grinned. "My brother and I had already named it Elendil before we discovered it was actually a girl. We had to call the poor thing Ellie after that."

Carca thought she might have liked to meet Ellie. She sounded the decent sort.

* * *

Carca watched as Boromir and Erestor hurried off into Imladris. The air outside was fresh and cool and she did not feel like returning to the stifling warmth of Erestor's room. She could hear more riders coming, and she wanted to see who they were.

Two Elves entered the courtyard, looking not only brave, but identical! Carca gave a little woof of surprise and astonishment. They rode two horses who did not look tired at all, but pranced lightly into the courtyard, heads held high.

Carca did not pay much attention to them, however, for her eyes were riveted on the sleek black dog that followed the two Elves. He was a very handsome dog indeed. Even as she watched, she could see that he had sensed her presense. His beautiful glossy head came up and his ears went back. Carca bounded onto the scene with her usual energy.

"Hello, handsome," she thought. To herself, she thought, "Oh dear. Mary-Lou's bad habits have worn off on me."

Fortunately, the black dog appeared more confused than angry. He sniffed her curiously, while she sniffed him. He smelled just like the Elves.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Gath," he replied, sitting back and looking at her. Carca felt pleasantly aware of her beautiful tawny fur.

"I'm Carca," she said, flashing him a strange doggy smile. "I came to Imladris a few days ago."

"You looked new," he said. "You belonged to humans, didn't you?"

She nodded. There wasn't much else to say. Humans left their mark on a dog, as did Elves.

"Do those two look after you?" she asked, pointing her nose towards the Elves, who were leading their horses to the stables.

"I look after them," Gath said proudly. "When they go out into the wild, I keep them company. Glorfindel says I'm an Orc-finding dog."

"Glorfindel?" Carca's eyes narrowed. Why did Glorfindel keep on showing up?

"Glorfindel is the Elf who raised me," Gath said. "He sends me on missions with Elladan and Elrohir, to make sure they don't get into trouble."

One of the twins turned and called their borrowed dog. "Come on, Gath."

"Maybe I'll see you later," the dog said, and then he trotted away, tail wagging briskly.

Carca gazed after him with dreamy eyes.

"Give me a dog called Gath any day," she said to herself. "It's _such_ a better name than Rover."

**To Be Continued...**


	3. The Council

**Both Fang and Fire **

by Erestor

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing pertaining to_ The Lord of the Rings.  
_  
**

* * *

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CHAPTER THREE

After finding rooms for Boromir and his companions, Erestor returned to the courtyard and shooed Carca back to his own chambers. "You've had a late night," he said.

Carca wondered why he had not been partying with the other Elves. She found out later that he had attended the first half, but had left promptly when he heard of the new arrivals. He did not return to the feast. Instead he sat up and worked on various things, far into the night. Carca lay at his feet, wondering, as was her wont.

She thought of Erestor's comment, that no one knew who she would belong to in the end.

"Who will keep me?" she thought.

* * *

The next day Carca arose early. She licked herself down and set out, a dog on a mission. She wanted to find out who would keep her. She wanted to know if Strider would claim her. 

Erestor had been very kind. He had fed her and talked to her, and let her roam about whenever she wanted. He seemed lonely, and would surely benefit from having a dog like her. She was certain of that. But who else needed her?

Carca wandered the gardens, thinking such grim thoughts. She was a dog, and not prone to worrying, but she realized that she needed to think about her future. She wanted to help. Perhaps she was in this strange place for that purpose. She wondered what Mary-Lou would have been doing at this point in time.

"Probably looking for the wonderful Leggy-Pooh," she thought. It would have served him right if Mary-Lou had fallen into his arms. She would have showed him the downfalls of having such a ridiculous name.

Carca turned the corner and found herself staring at two elderly people sitting on a bench talking. One was a hobbit. The other was a man who looked very ancient and wise, and also rather grim.

"So this is the dog," the hobbit said. "The one who helped save poor Frodo." He talked in a strange wheezing kind of way. Carca wondered if it was an affectation of his, so as to emphasis everything he said.

Two other hobbits rounded the bend. One was the much celebrated Frodo Ringbearer. The other was his friend, apparently a good fellow named Sam. He was afraid of dogs, Carca could tell, and he took care to avoid her as she sat on the path, her tail swishing back and forth.

The four talked about nice things like weather and the beauty of Imladris. But Frodo still looked rather pale, and Sam still looked a bit suspicious of Carca.

"I suppose if I did not like dogs," Carca thought, in her usual philosophical mood, "I should avoid one called Fang." The fact that her name was intimidating made her feel good: unbeatable and brave.

The ringing of a bell woke her from her reverie. "The Council of Elrond will soon begin," the old man said, jumping lightly to his feet. "You and Bilbo are wanted."

Frodo, the elderly hobbit (who must have been Bilbo), and the old man hurried off in the direction of the ringing bell, leaving the third hobbit behind.

Carca thought. "I think I will go to the Council of Elrond as well."

The hobbit, she noticed, seemed to be having similar thoughts. They both hurried off after their departing friends.

* * *

From where she lay, deeply ensconced in some leafy shrubbery, Carca had a wonderful view of the Council. She could see Boromir there, still in his dirty clothes, looking as if he was about to fall asleep at any moment. She could see Strider, surprisingly clean, especially when compared to the son of Denethor. She saw Erestor, grim and tidy and proper. Glorfindel was there too, looking very fine and dignified. 

"What would he do if I rushed in and bit his ankle?" she thought. Probably he would keep on looking fine and dignified as he tried to detatch her from his foot. "He might even succeed," she thought, smiling to herself. The very thought of Glorfindel hopping around in a dignified manner, with her attached to his boot, made her give a little yip of laughter.

As she listened to the people talk she derived several things.

1. The Ringbearer had a ring.

2. The ring was dangerous.

3. The word 'Ring' should probably be thought of in Capital Letters.

4. They would have to either destroy the Ring, hide the Ring, or give up all hope of future happiness.

5. Erestor thought destroying the Ring would be suicide.

6. Glorfindel wanted to toss the Ring in the sea.

7. The Elf in Charge (his name was Lord Elrond) wanted to destroy the Ring in Mt. Doom.

8. Doom sounded rather ominous, even to Carca.

9. Everyone else seemed to agree the destroying the Ring was suicide.

10. Boromir didn't want to destroy the Ring.

11. Boromir thought they could use the Ring, for some strange purpose.

12. Boromir and Strider disliked each other.

13. Lord Elrond wanted to make a Fellowship to destroy the Ring.

14. Sam had been hiding in the shrubbery as well, and made himself known.

15. The Fellowshipers were now: Frodo and Sam.

Carca wandered away from the Council, feeling despondent. Things did not look good for the Fellowshipers. The two hobbits would probably not be capable to fighting anything. "They might need me," she thought. Then it struck her that Erestor would probably call the whole thing off. He would say it was suicide. She almost had to agree. The mission sounded dangerous to her, and she did not quite understand why it was necessary.

"I am just a dog," she thought, "but delivering a Very Dangerous Ring into the hands of the chief villain sounds just plain Wrong."

She wondered if the others thought of the quest in this way. She headed back home, and found Erestor standing by the door, about to leave.

"Carca," he said, "I'm going to visit Lord Glorfindel. Will you come?"

Glorfindel: the snooty wonderful Elf, with the beautiful, incredibly handsome black dog. Carca panted with excitement. "Of course I'll come," she thought. "Even if it's just to see Gath again."

* * *

Gath was not there. Carca prepared herself to be bored. 

Glorfindel's chambers consisted of one large room. Very large. The furniture was simple but beautiful, the room spacious and open. It even had a balcony. Carca had always thought balconies were a good idea. She decided she liked Glorfindel's style.

Erestor slumped into a chair by a big window. "This whole idea is crazy," he said.

Glorfindel pushed a goblet of wine across the table towards his friend. "Lord Elrond has been right many times before," he said.

"But he has been wrong on occasion," Erestor said, frowning. "I'm very worried."

"You shouldn't be. Elrond has never been seriously mistaken. He knows what he's doing," Glorfindel said.

"Glorfindel the Perfect and Heroic strikes again," Carca thought.

"He doesn't always act this way," came an amused thought.

Carca spun around and found herself nose to nose with Gath. "You startled me," she thought, deciding to start with the obvious.

"That was my intent," Gath said.

"You know, you're just as infuriating as he is," Carca thought. "Gath and Glorfindel: the Terrible Two."

"What have you been doing all day?" he asked, stretching. His sleek black fur looked even glossier in the sunlight.

"I was at Elrond's Council," she thought. "Is that good enough for you, my lord?"

Gath smiled. "It's enough. Elladan and Elrohir were there too, but I stayed behind. I take it Lord Elrond wants to create a Fellowship."

"Yes," Carca answered. "'Nine walkers to face nine riders' or something like that. They will set out soon."

"Who exactly?" Gath asked. (He didn't know everything, Carca realized. That was reassuring. She couldn't stand know-it-alls.)

"The Fellowshipers: Sam and Frodo," Carca thought.

"I can count," Gath thought, "and that is only two."

"I suppose they'll find seven others later," Carca replied. "Probably Strider and some Elves."

"Maybe a few dogs too," Gath thought.

"Perhaps," Carca thought with satisfaction. Dogs were good and helpful animals. If they came with the Fellowship-to-be they would be of great assistance. When she thought about it, however, she wondered. Did she really _want_ to join the Fellowship? Maybe she would prefer to stay in Imladris.

What would Mary-Lou have done? Carca knew the answer to that question at least. Mary-Lou would be galloping off to Mordor as fast as her high-heels would let her. Anything to save Middle-earth and make herself look heroic.

"Do I want to do what Mary-Lou would have done?" Carca wondered.

**To Be Continued...**


	4. The Departure

**Both Fang and Fire **

by Erestor

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing pertaining to _The Lord of the Rings_.

**

* * *

**

CHAPTER FOUR

Carca strolled through the gardens that night thinking romantic thoughts. She imagined playing tug-of-war with Gath, except he kept looking at her with love-filled eyes as they fought over the piece of rope. She wondered if her dream would ever become a reality. She wondered if Glorfindel liked puppies.

"I hope he does," she thought, "because I think he might end up with some."

The thought of Glorfindel frantically trying to find homes for a bunch of puppies made her giggle. Then she wondered why Glorfindel annoyed her so much. Nothing was really wrong with the Elf, he was just too perfect and casual, and he had never so much as patted her head. He had called her a 'small animal'. He had brushed aside her friendly efforts. He did not deserve her loyalty and adoration.

But there were more pleasant subjects than Glorfindel, and Carca wanted to think about something more pleasant in a moonlit garden. She decided to think about Gath again. She wondered if he ever thought about her. She wondered if he loved her. She wondered if she loved him.

"I am far too insecure," she told herself. "Stop wondering and worrying. It's not natural for a dog of your age."

Before she could begin wondering and worrying again, someone glided into the garden. It was an Elf-maid dressed in blue, glimmering like a slender shard of moonlight. Her long black hair fell almost to her waist. She wore no jewelry. Her eyes were like sparkling sapphires. Carca felt her mouth drop open at the sight.

It was soon apparent that the dog was not the only one feeling romantic. The maiden kept on sighing, and looking around with dreamy eyes. She paced back and forth. It was obvious that she was waiting for someone.

"Who?" Carca thought.

Her question was answered when Strider walked into the garden, looking almost like a bearded Elf. He was graceful, and serious, and, most surprising of all, he was clean. He did not look as if he would throw sticks for a dog now. He looked too grim and dignified for that.

Then a smile flashed across his face as he saw the maiden. He would throw sticks, Carca realized, for someone he loved.

Of course, the maiden would probably not appreciate the stick-throwing as much as Carca would have.

The Elf and the human began kissing each other. They kissed for a long time. The dog started to feel bored. She hoped they would begin having a sensible conversation soon. She yawned.

"Hello," Gath said.

"I swear," Carca said, (though she refrained from bad language), "you are the sneakiest, cunningest dog I've ever had the misfortune to meet."

"I know," Gath replied.

"Ah, a dog of few words," Carca said. "You drive me crazy, always popping up in strange places. What exactly are you doing here?"

"Glorfindel sent me to watch Estel. Elladan and Elrohir sent me to watch Arwen. She's their sister. If they begin acting... well..." --He rolled his eyes-- "...then I have to report."

"To whom?" Carca asked. "You seem to be in a tight spot. Three people have sent you to spy on these two. What are you going to do now?"

He licked her nose. "Why should I spy on them?"

Carca sniffed him. "I really like you, Gath."

"I really like you, Carca," he thought.

"What now?" she asked him.

* * *

The next morning, Carca woke up early again, curled up in a sunny spot by the window. Erestor's bedroom was generally very cold after the fire went out, but somehow she had found a warmer part of it.

"Wake up, Ressi!" she thought and then laughed at herself. Now _she_ was calling the poor Elf by his least favorite nickname. The dog launched herself across the room and unto the advisor's bed with a little bark. "Wake up!"

Erestor sat up very quickly with a gasp of shock, and then sighed in relief, sinking back onto his pillows. "Carca. It's only you."

"Only me?" thought Carca, panting. "Today will be good! Get up!"

"Are you hungry? Is that it?" Erestor asked, dragging himself out of the bed and flinging on a casual robe. "You've never attacked me like this before."

"It's only because I'm very happy," Carca thought. Of course, Erestor would not know that. He was too busy brushing his hair. She rolled over onto her back and kicked her legs in the air, almost resembling a small, shaggy horse. Then she jumped back to her feet and bounced over to where Erestor was now standing, searching his little pantry for something to eat.

"Today will be an interesting day," Erestor said. "Everyone will be reacting now that the council is over. When Elves react, Carca, things can get a little crazy. We know what we have to do, and we're going to steel ourselves to do it. But first we're going to loosen up a little."

"That's what you need, Erestor," Carca thought. "You need to loosen up."

Erestor shot her a piercing look. "I know what you're thinking, my dear. And believe me, I'll loosen up."

"Today," Carca smiled to herself, "sounds very promising."

* * *

The first sign of 'loosening up' that Carca noticed, was the fact that the Elves were singing. No matter where she went in Imladris, she could always hear the sound of song. It was a very joyful occasion. The Elves were not in denial: they knew what they had to do, as Erestor had put it. This part of proceedings was like an athlete stretching and relaxing his muscles before he went into some big event.

Carca bounded along through Imladris. Everywhere she went, Elves stopped to pat her head. She, in return, licked their hands eagerly. Everything seemed strangely festive. It was wonderful. At the same time, everything seemed to be in preparation.

Carca was in the courtyard when Elladan and Elrohir entered it, coming down some stairs with packs in hand. Gath trotted behind them, still completely shadow-like. Last of all, Glorfindel glided down the stairs, his eyes sparkling.

"Take care of them, Gath," he said.

The dog gave a sharp bark in reply.

"I'm coming! Wait just a moment!" came a voice. Strider rushed down the stairs after the three Elves. Like them, he was brandishing a pack. "You wouldn't have left me behind, would you?"

"If you had been too slow, Estel, we would have," Elladan said, "and you almost were."

"I told you I was coming," Strider said.

"I think you stayed up too late last night," Elrohir said.

Arwen dashed down the stairs, holding up her skirts just a little, her face bright and filled with love. "Aragorn, you will keep safe, won't you?"

Strider chuckled. "Of course. And I'll keep your brother's safe too. Don't worry."

"Don't do anything too... dangerous on this trip," Glorfindel said. "You're only getting in touch with the other Rangers, not going on an Orc-hunt. So be careful. They'll need you for the Fellowship."

Aragorn looked down for a moment, before meeting the Elf's serious gaze. "I'll be careful," he said. "And remember to do the same," he grinned as he added, "...Glorfy."

Unoffended, Glorfindel smiled back at him. "Take care."

"Gath, what are you doing?" Carca asked.

Gath licked her nose. "Don't worry, Carca. I'm only going on a brief trip with the twins. I have to keep them out of danger."

The two Elves had mounted their horses, and Strider followed. Gath shot a look over his shoulder at her, before he slid away.

When they were gone, Arwen looked at Glorfindel, "Will you be leaving soon?"

The Elf nodded. "Probably in an hour or so." He ran his fingers through his thick hair. "Lord Elrond is finding someone to accompany me."

Arwen smiled. "Will you take Carca?"

Carca looked up at the two Elves, her eyes wide with surprise. She had not realized that would be a possibility. Go with Glorfindel? In place of Gath?

Glorfindel looked equally startled. "I don't know..." he began. He glanced sidelong at the dog. "You must know that Carca doesn't like me much."

"You've always been good with animals." Arwen grinned. "Why not this one?"

"The Elvish ability with animals only stretches as far as 'all good beasts'," Glorfindel said, his bright eyes sparkling even more than usual. Carca growled half-heartedly and the infuriating Elf continued, "Not that I'm suggesting our dear Carca is bad. She is simply stubborn."

"And so are you, Glorfindel," Arwen said.

**To Be Continued...**


	5. The Prince

**Both Fang and Fire **

**by Erestor**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing pertaining to _The Lord of the Rings_.

**

* * *

**

CHAPTER FIVE

After Arwen had left the scene, Glorfindel looked down at Carca. "Would you come with me if I asked?"

"Ask me and see," thought Carca, her eyes narrowed. Glorfindel laughed.

"You _are _stubborn," he said, almost to himself. "I will state this very clearly. In my favor: I am a dangerous warrior, a expert advisor, and an organized Elf. I am generally cheerful, often likeable, rather charming, terribly powerful and a very respectable person.I am also very honest. My vices are few: I like to appear perfect, I am proud, stubborn, and extremely irritating and obnoxious. In a good way." He smiled. "And if I may be so bold as to summarize you, I should say that you were proud, stubborn, brave, and respectable yourself. How's that?"

Carca smiled despite herself. Glorfindel could be very likeable when he wished to be.

"That said, allow me to ask you properly: would you come with me?"

"Yes, I think I could handle you," Carca thought.

* * *

When Carca and Glorfindel entered Lord Elrond's room, Carca was startled to see another Elf there. Worst of all, she actually recognized this Elf. It was Leggy-Pooh. 

The Elf bowed when he saw Glorfindel, and Glorfindel bowed in return, which seemed to indicate that Leggy-Pooh was powerful too.

Maybe.

At first glance, he did not look powerful, not like Glorfindel. Glorfindel acted completely confident and self-assured, superior in his charming way. This Elf was quiet, with steel-grey eyes. Powerful in a different, Elvish way. Powerful like all Elves are powerful.

"You are ready to leave?" Lord Elrond asked.

"Yes, my lord," Glorfindel said. "I am bringing the dog with me."

The Dog. Carca sighed. She could feel Glorfindel's wicked delight, just as he could feel her irritation.

"You would not mind having another companion?" the Elf-Lord asked. "Prince Legolas of Mirkwood?"

"Of course not. His highness and I have met before." Glorfindel's gaze strayed to the Elf by the desk. It was a rather amused glance.

The Elf was not called Leggy-Pooh after all! Trust Mary-Lou to be so idiotic. This was 'Prince Legolas of Mirkwood'. And he was not the silly simpering fellow she had suspected him to be. He was a warrior, and a prince. Carca smiled to herself. How very interesting.

This would be an exciting trip.

* * *

"Please let me come!" By this point, Erestor was coming as close to begging as he ever would. 

Carca watched with interest. She liked both Elves. She didn't like to see them quarrel, and she didn't like to see Erestor get upset.

"Erestor, you are not a warrior," Glorfindel said.

"This was not meant to be a dangerous trip. You're only going to notify King Thranduil of this Quest. You do not need warriors. You do not mean to say, Glorfindel, that you would take a dog and not me!" Erestor cried.

Glorfindel half-smiled. "Your logic remains faultless as ever, my friend. But you are needed here, with Lord Elrond."

Erestor looked at the floor. "Two Elves cannot make the trip alone. You need at least one other. Let me go with you."

"Very well," Glorfindel said. "I wanted you to stay behind for your own good, but if you want to come with me... you may."

Erestor was already packing his bags.

* * *

An hour later, three Elves left Imladris, accompanied by three horses, and one dog. Glorfindel rode at the head of the little procession, a sword at his side, and a great yew bow slung across his shoulder. Legolas followed on a brown-eyed bay, his black bow within easy grabbing distance, his posture perfect, ready for anything. Last of all, Erestor came, riding a sleek black horse as raven as his hair. He had a sword, but it seemed to make him more nervous than confident. If the advisor was having second thoughts, however, he did not show it. 

Meanwhile, Carca was already having fun. She kept up a brisk pace beside Glorfindel's horse, sniffing eagerly at everything, but never leaving him to examine it. She suspected that in this strange world, there were dangers she could not even imagine. She wondered if she would meet anything dangerous. She rather hoped she would. It would be good to see Glorfindel and Legolas fight. (Not each other, of course. Fight the unknown dangers.)

She listened to the three try to make casual conversation. Erestor was talking in his quiet voice, trying to persuade Legolas to reply in something more than monosyllables. The prince was terribly polite, of course, but not talkative. He seemed wary of the advisor, though more open with Glorfindel. The golden haired Elf did not speak. It was not that he was tense, he seemed contemplative.

"What are you thinking about, O wise and wonderful lord?" she asked. It might have been sarcasm, but her tone was friendly.

Glorfindel said nothing, but she could sense his silent reply. "Mirkwood, O small and stubborn hound."

It might seem strange to the casual human observer, but he could allow her to see his thoughts, conversing with her in a way similar to how she conversed with Gath. She understood him, somehow. The way he thought the word 'Mirkwood' filled her mind with images: huge spiders, tangled webs, black moths the size of... something big, and lots of dark haired Elves.

"Why?" she thought.

She saw an Elf with golden hair and blue eyes (not Glorfindel) sitting on a large fancy chair. "To bring a message to Thranduil."

"Will this be a dangerous trip?" Carca asked.

"Perhaps. Probably."

* * *

That night the Elves sat around a campfire. They were not worried about the danger yet, that much was apparent. But they all seemed to be pondering their own separate problems. 

Erestor was very quiet, almost anxious.

Legolas continually glanced into the dark trees surrounding them as if he expected danger to come bursting out at any moment. He had objected to a fire at first, until Glorfindel had reminded him, "There are no large insects here."

Glorfindel stared into the fire as though he could read secrets from its depths. He was fascinated with it. Carca wondered about that. She wondered about many things. Then she realized how she could find the answer. She probed into his mind.

Instantly she felt a great heat, fire everywhere, some of it liquid, some of it live and crackling. She could see people dying and Elves running. And _danger_. She could see danger everywhere in the form of great snarling evil creatures. She recoiled at the vision, so strong, so sudden.

Glorfindel looked at her, the fire reflecting in his strange eyes. "That was Gondolin," he thought.

"Was?"

"It is gone."

"It was your home."

"It was."

"Do you see it every time you look into the fire?"

"No. The pain is gone."

"That is not true. I felt pain." Carca paused, and then asked. "How? Why can I sense your thoughts like this?"

"I am a powerful Elf," Glorfindel thought. She might have bridled at such a comment, but now she knew it was true. "You are not from Middle-Earth. Neither am I. We are more similar than you think."

Carca drew in her breath. "How?"

"When I healed your foot, I gave you a part of myself. I could read you. I knew you. You are not from here. Neither am I. You felt like someone who had died."

"I died?"

"That is what I deduced. I died too."

"You fell here?"

"No." An imperceptible shake of his head. "I came here from Valinor after I died."

"I am not from Valinor."

He grinned. "You certainly aren't."

"Was I sent here?"

"Nothing is an accident, though I do not think you are of much importance. No offense intended, of course."

Carca huffed.

"I doubt you are going to change the course of the future," he thought, smirking a little.

"I might."

"You might."

**To Be Continued...**


	6. The King

**Both Fang and Fire **

**by Erestor**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing pertaining to_ The Lord of the Rings._

**_

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_ **

CHAPTER SIX

"Carca?" Erestor said. The dog pricked up her ears and raised her head to look at him.

"What?" Now that she knew more about Glorfindel she understood why Erestor could only vaguely sense her thoughts. He preferred talking to her rather than thinking to her. Erestor was an Elf, but he was not like Glorfindel. No one was quite like Glorfindel.

"I wonder if I should have come on this journey," Erestor said quietly. The fire had died out and the three Elves had lain down to sleep. But the advisor was not sleeping. He was having doubts instead.

Carca panted and wagged her tail. "You should have come," she thought. "You're my friend and you're helpful."

Erestor smiled. "Thank you, Carca. You're very reassuring."

"I only live to serve you." The dog smiled, before curling up to go to sleep. Erestor's eyes glazed over, and he fell asleep. With them open. It still freaked Carca out a little. All the Elves were sleeping that way.

"I wonder what Gath is doing at the moment?" Carca thought.

* * *

The next two days were entirely uneventful. Carca, however, was not bored. This world was new and exciting. It was full of new things to sniff and new places to explore. Glorfindel would watch her with amused eyes as she searched for frogs and unusual insects in the shrubbery. 

Every night when they lit a fire, Glorfindel would stare into it, and sometimes she would stare with him. Sometimes she saw Gondolin in flames, sometimes she saw other, happier things, but as the days passed by, the pain and clarity of the fiery visions lessened. For that, she was thankful.

Legolas was still very quiet, and Erestor was still a little doubtful. Altogether, the Elves were not very interesting. The horses, however, were a completely different matter.

Legolas horse, Aráto, was also serious, but more talkative than his master. Asfaloth was his usual witty self. Erestor's mount, Perlomë, was rather boisterous. Together, the four animals made light-hearted conversation.

"What is Mirkwood like?" Asfaloth asked. He was a younger horse than the others, and very curious.

Aráto nickered. "It's a wonderful forest. A little dark, a little gloomy, but there's no place like home!"

"I like Imladris very much indeed," Perlomë thought with a snort.

"Well, it was nice, but a bit too flighty for my tastes. Too sparkly and ethereal," Aráto said.

"If you think Imladris is sparkly and ethereal, wait until you see Lothlorien," Asfaloth said. "I went there once. It was very bright and lovely, but at night... at night it fairly glows!"

"And so do the Elves there," Carca said. "Like bright lights."

Aráto glanced at the three others defensively. "Elves in Mirkwood glow."

"I'm glad to hear it. If they didn't glow, they'd probably end up walking into trees," Asfaloth said. "It's much too dark there. I wonder that the Elves can stand it!"

Aráto almost growled. Legolas looked rather surprised and glanced at his horse. Carca woofed with delight. Glorfindel began to laugh silently, his shoulders shaking, and she could tell he'd been listening to their conversation.

"Does Glorfindel ever think to you?" she asked Asfaloth.

"Once or twice," the horse replied. "He can do it."

"How?"

"It's part of what coming back to Middle-Earth does to Elves. It gives them strange powers that a horse and a dog couldn't understand," Asfaloth thought.

Carca sighed. "When will we get to Mirkwood?"

"Soon," thought Asfaloth cryptically. "Soon."

* * *

They had crossed the mountains, and now they began entering small tufts of trees. So far it was still thin and spare stuff, but soon it would be Mirkwood. 

Perhaps it was the close proximity to his home that caused Legolas to start talking more freely.

"There is one straight path," he said, "that runs right through the forest. It is safe... as long as you do not venture off it. If you do, and you are not used to the woods, then it is very likely that you will die."

"Cheerful Elf, isn't he?" Carca thought. A small smile danced across Glorfindel's face, much to Legolas' surprise, and when the Elf glanced at the prince he began to laugh. Erestor smiled himself, just to hear Glorfindel's merriment.

Meanwhile, Aráto looked very severe.

"You shouldn't say things like that," he thought. "His Highness is a prince."

"He can't understand me," Carca replied. "And it's true, he's not cheerful."

"He doesn't always act that way," Aráto said. Carca sighed, and began thinking about Gath again. He had said something very like that about Glorfindel, and he had been right. It was quite possible that the bay was right about Legolas.

* * *

Mirkwood, Carca soon found, was not a laughing manner. As they traveled through the dark forest, Legolas grew more relaxed, and Erestor looked very worried. Glorfindel was merely his usual calm self. As for the horses, the spirited Perlomë's brave heart quailed, Aráto rejoiced, and Asfaloth looked as calm and collected as his master. Carca decided she couldn't let Glorfindel down. She struggled to look casual and unaware of the deep shadows on every side of her. It was very worrisome. In this case, she felt more in sympathy with Erestor. 

"We cannot light any fires tonight, I'm afraid," Legolas said. Erestor and Glorfindel nodded.

"No light?" Carca thought, panicking. "What will we do?"

"Light," drawled Glorfindel's thoughts, "would mean a lot of huge insects flapping all over you." He sent Carca a vision of herself surrounded by very large moths. Carca could have sworn they had fangs, but that might have been a result of Glorfindel's overactive imagination.

"Oh," thought Carca. "I see."

It was very dark, but Carca's animal sense told her that it was still light outside the forest. Night had been falling earlier and earlier, now that November was drawing to close, but this was not the sun's fault. It was the trees' fault. There were too many of them, all very thick and dark. Fortunately, dogs can see best in the twilight.

Despite that, Carca was scared.

"Cheer up. Gath has been here many times, but on his first trip, he panicked so completely he ran into a tree. He was only a pup then. Legolas has a dog too, a very handsome creature by the name of Beleg. You'll like him," thought Glorfindel.

"Well, that sounds a little better," Carca thought.

* * *

After entering Mirkwood, the Elves and their horses began to move more rapidly, and Carca had a harder job keeping up with them. They hurried through the forest as though danger pressed hard against them. Carca wondered what form the danger would take. 

She soon found out.

They were riding quickly through the straight path, when suddenly a huge spider jumped down out of the trees. "Where there's one, there are often many," Glorfindel said softly, taking the bow from his back. Legolas shot the spider, almost casually.

Two more spiders came down out of the trees. Glorfindel shot one easily, the arrow passing right through its body, and Legolas picked off the other. Erestor looked around, his eyes wide, unsheathing his sword.

Carca whirled around just in time to meet a spider head on. She caught one of its spindly legs in her mouth and snapped it. It made a horrible brittle breaking sound. Carca flung herself on it, biting fiercely. Her mother had been a police dog, and she knew how to fight. Therefore, she fought.

Glorfindel was doing a wonderful job of killing spiders. His bow was singing and twanging. Legolas had dismounted, and was fighting the spiders with obvious skill, a hot light in his eyes. He looked as though he were enjoying himself.

Erestor killed one spider. He looked relieved and nervous and jumpy, all at once. Many spiders lay around, thoroughly dead.

"They're attacking in greater numbers," Legolas said coolly, retrieving his arrows. "The darkness is growing again."

Glorfindel had pulled the shafts out of a few of the spiders he had taken down. "I see that. I was not expecting such an attack." He sent a rapid thought to Carca, "You did well for a beginner. Spiders must be hard to fight when you are nearly smaller than them."

"You are quite small yourself," Carca thought in reply. It was true. Though Glorfindel appeared tall, in reality he was a little below average height. Still tall, if he had been human, but small for an Elf.

Glorfindel smiled. "I suppose you are right. But sometimes the smallest creatures fight the fiercest." He patted her, and said aloud, "You're a good dog, Carca."

* * *

They entered King Thranduil's Halls the next day. 

The palace looked huge and unfriendly at first, as dark and foreboding as the woods. Carca did not panic right away, however, because the first creature to meet them was a very handsome grey and black dog.

His name was Beleg.

Beleg looked delighted to see a fellow dog. After greeting Legolas, he came over to introduce himself.

Legolas ruffled his hound's fur. "Beleg is a good hunter," he said proudly. "Come in quickly."

The next person to meet them was a tall Elf who looked nearly exactly like Legolas, just older. "Welcome to the Halls of the Elvenking," he said, with a bow. "You are most welcome here." His blue-grey eyes fastened on Glorfindel. "It's good to see you again, my lord."

Glorfindel bowed respectfully. "It is good indeed, Prince Cúkáno."

Cúkáno glanced at his little brother. "You arrived home soon, Legolas."

"I will be leaving again quickly. We have things of importance to tell Father," Legolas replied.

"I thought you might. Lord Elrond is wise, and his council often involves action. We are preparing for war here," Cúkáno said, gesturing towards some Elves who were in the act of carrying various weaponry into the palace. Carca watched with interest. War. The Fellowshipers were only a part of this, then. "We may need you, Legolas."

Glorfindel and Legolas exchanged a glance. "We would like to talk with his Majesty. Is he available?" Glorfindel asked.

"He was expecting you," Cúkáno said. "Come on."

* * *

The inner chamber of the palace was rich and fine looking. Carca padded softly over the thick rugs on the floor, Beleg beside her. "Nice place you got here," she thought. 

"Thank you. King Thranduil likes to be surrounded by beauty," Beleg replied.

Cúkáno had left soon after entering the room, and so now only the three Elves stood there, waiting for something to happen. Carca felt herself tremble with apprehension. What was King Thranduil like? Was he good or mean or cruel or kind? Was he like Legolas or was he different?

The great doors opened, and Thranduil stepped into his hall.

**To Be Continued...**


	7. The Choice

**Both Fang and Fire **

by Erestor

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing pertaining to _The Lord of the Rings._

**

* * *

**

CHAPTER SEVEN

Thranduil was a tall Elf, dignified and regal. Not pompous though, just dangerous. His blue eyes were sharp and piercing, his stance was that of a warrior's. Carca felt rather awed. This Elf was a good king, she could tell that just from looking at him.

Glorfindel, Erestor, and even Legolas bowed when Thranduil entered the room. However, the king did not appear to be too interested in formalities. He ignored his throne and walked forward to greet his son.

"Home so soon, Legolas!" he said. "I did not hope to see you for weeks yet, and this comes as a marvelous surprise. How was your journey? What did Lord Elrond say about Gollum?"

He might have been talking quickly, but he did not sound at all silly. Carca smiled as she watched Legolas trying to answer the multitude of questions.

"Both Mithrandir and Lord Elrond think Gollum will an important part to play in the near future. For good or ill he would not say. As for our journey, it was surprisingly uneventful," the prince said. Carca saw the smile in his eyes, and realized how glad he was to see his father again.

Glorfindel stepped forward. "Thranduil," he said, "Lord Elrond needs your son."

Thranduil's eyes flitted to Glorfindel's face. "Legolas? Why?"

Both Erestor and the Elf in question looked as surprised as the Elvenking. Apparently this news was new indeed.

"Isildur's Bane, the Ring created by the Enemy, has been rediscovered," Glorfindel said, "and by a hobbit, of all creatures. During the Council, we decided that the only way to defend ourselves from the Enemy is to destroy this weapon, and the only way to destory it is to throw it into Mt. Doom, where it was forged."

"I see," Thranduil said. "That makes sense."

"The hobbit will need companions to protect him," Glorfindel said, "and Lord Elrond is interested in recruiting Legolas to be one of them."

"Lord Elrond wants my son to go to Mt. Doom? To Mordor?" Thranduil stared, but then collected himself. "Really?"

Glorfindel nodded, a slight smile creeping across his face.

"I'm so proud of you, Legolas!" Thranduil said. "And a little worried too, I'll admit. But this is good news. If Lord Elrond thinks you can do it, I agree heartily with him."

Legolas looked as stunned as Carca had ever seen him. "Me?"

"Why, of course," Thranduil said. "Do you doubt your abilities? Do you not remember how you once wanted to save the world?"

"Father, I was three at the time," Legolas said. "I thought Lord Glorfindel would go on the quest."

Glorfindel shook his head. "I can be of great assistance elsewhere."

Carca rolled her eyes.

"Legolas is the perfect for the job," Thranduil said. "I admire you very much, Glorfindel, but I agree that you would not be such a good choice."

Erestor bridled visibly at this comment. "I think Glorfindel would be perfect for the Fellowship," he said.

The air suddenly became tense. A human might not have noticed, but Carca certainly did.

"What do you mean by that?" Thranduil asked, "Are you suggesting that Legolas is incapable of this?"

Legolas still looked quietly doubtful.

"I think Lord Elrond was right," Glorfindel said. "I do not want to be part of the Fellowship."

Erestor stiffened, but he looked more startled than anything else. He had defended his friend, and his friend had disagreed with him and sided with the enemy. Not only that, but now all three Elves were watching him with annoyance. Erestor was very diplomatic. He bowed. "I'm sorry if my words offended," he said. "I spoke without thinking."

"And I'll bet he does that _all _the time," Carca thought, feeling sarcastic.

Legolas sighed and shook his head. "Father, you need me here," he said. "I was not expecting such an offer from Lord Elrond, and I really cannot accept it. I thought I would be returning to Imladris, but I did not even suspect the reason..."

"Lord Elrond wants you," Glorfindel said. Carca could tell he was speaking in his most persuasive tone of voice.

"You are needed," Thranduil said, "and I am not going to hold you back."

Carca sat and watched. It was an interesting predicament. Two Elves were potential Fellowshipers, but neither wanted to go Fellowshipping. To make matters more complicated, they both had an Elf on their side, someone who _did _want them to go.

"Legolas, you must be willing," Glorfindel said. "I cannot force you to go, for it is a dangerous task, and you may not survive."

"Yes," Thranduil said. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't have been trying to force you to do anything against your will."

"Thank you," Legolas said softly. "I'll have to think this over." He turned and left the room, with one parting bow to his father.

* * *

When Glorfindel exited the palace, Carca followed him. The world outside was dark and cold, and the December wind was biting.

"I'm cold," she thought.

Glorfindel glanced at her. "No wonder," he said aloud. "You're thinking thoughts that would make an _Elf_ freeze in his boots."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You don't have to be cold if you don't want to be," Glorfindel said. "That's how an Elf operates."

"You deny the fact that you're cold?"

"No. We do not deny it. We revel in the fact that it is cold. If you do not fear the cold, it is much harder for it to overwhelm you."

Carca concentrated. "I will not shiver," she thought. "I am not cold." To Glorfindel, she thought, "This sounds potentially dangerous to me."

"It works for the Elves."

"I'm not an Elf. I am a dog. Please get used to that."

"Ah, yes. Sometimes I am inclined to forget. So many Elves are small and furry that it's hard to tell which ones aren't dogs."

"Elvish sarcasm lacks something, did you know that?"

"No. It's very subtle, that's all."

They stood in silence for a moment, looking up at the sky.

"I miss the stars here."

Glorfindel mock-gasped. "You _are_ becoming Elvish. Next thing you know, you'll lose your tail and nice thick fur and begin glowing, Carca."

"I was serious."

"Don't worry. So was I. I miss the stars myself."

"Glorfindel?"

"Yes?"

"You do want to join the Fellowship, don't you?"

"I did, but I realize it wouldn't work, Carca. My era is over, and Legolas is young. He can do this, and I can't."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. According to Erestor, you killed a Balrog once."

"That's the sort of thing one doesn't do often."

"For that I'm very thankful, Elf."

"You have been watching us all, and I want to know if you think Legolas will be able to do this."

"If he really wants to do this, I think he can. But it's his choice."

"Yes, you're right, Carca," Glorfindel said. "That is why I must stand aside. I am not wholehearted enough for the task."

* * *

"What are you doing?"

"I'm packing, Cúkáno. Tomorrow I will be leaving Mirkwood to return to Imladris," Legolas replied, carefully selecting a tunic from his wardrobe. 

"But we need you," Cúkáno said softly. "Mirkwood must not fall. You could be of great service here." 

"Lord Elrond needs me too," Legolas said.

"And he is more important than your family?"

Legolas turned around and faced his brother angrily. "You cannot say things like that. Not _you_, of all people. Mirkwood is important, but the fate of Middle-earth is even more important. Lord Elrond needs me to save Middle-earth. You once said that only by working from the outside could someone hope to save our home."

Cúkáno's eyes became dark and furious, but he said nothing. 

"I have to help. Lord Elrond needs me." Legolas sounded as though he were trying to convince himself. He had been so happy for a while, with his father proud of him, and everyone wanting him to go. Now Cúkáno was annoyed with him. Maybe even angry. What could an Elf do? 

Cúkáno glared at his little brother, utterly frustrated. He had been glad to see him return, and now he discovered that Legolas would be leaving soon. Probably tomorrow. "Legolas," he said softly, but with great feeling in his voice, "you might not return." 

Legolas made a noise that sounded a lot like a choking growl. Then he strode out of his bedroom to find some peace and quiet in the gardens.

* * *

Erestor stood silently by the window to his bedroom, looking out over Mirkwood. In the dark, it stretched out into the horizon. It seemed limitless. Erestor wished he had not come to this place. He had only made things more difficult for everyone.

The advisor carefully folded his one serviceable cloak and laid it on the chair next to his bed. He looked up quickly when someone knocked on the door. "Who is it?"

"Glorfindel."

"Come in." The Elf sat on the edge of his bed and waited.

Glorfindel entered the room almost cautiously, Carca following him. As soon as he saw his friend, the golden haired Elf sighed unhappily.

"I'm sorry, Erestor," he said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. But I can't go with the Fellowship."

Erestor brushed his black hair away from his face. "It was my fault, Glorfindel," he said. "I should have trusted you."

* * *

Carca strolled around outside happily, glad that Glorfindel and Erestor were reconciled. The courtyard she was in was more of a tangled garden, snarled with old dead rose bushes. It was a lonely, forgotten place, and she felt pleased to have found it.

Then she found something else.

An Elf sat on a bench in the darkness, his head buried in his hands. Even as the startled dog watched, a tear trickled through his fingers.

"It's Legolas!" Carca realized, and her heart suddenly began to pound. "What would Mary-Lou do now?" She knew the answer immediately. She would have kissed him. "That's ridiculous," Carca thought. "I wouldn't do something like that... I can't anyway."

"Cheer up, Legolas," she thought. "The Fellowship won't be that bad. I'm sure you'll all win in the end."

The Elf looked down at her blearily, his eyes cloudy and dark. "Don't cry," Carca thought desperately. "It's too touching. I can't take it anymore."

Carca awkwardly put her paws on the bench so that she had a good view, then she began to carefully lick the tears away.

**To Be Continued...**


	8. The Attack

**Both Fang and Fire  
  
by Erestor**  
  
_Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to Lord of the Rings. All the Elves, Men, Hobbits and Dwarves belong to Tolkien. All the dogs and most of the horses belong to me. All mistakes are my own unless I can find someone else to blame them on._  
  
**_CHAPTER EIGHT_**  
  
Legolas felt a little embarrassed as he cried. There was only a dog watching him, that was nothing to be ashamed of, but he had never lost his control like this. At least, he hadn't for a long time. He brushed the tears away. "I won't cry any longer," he thought shakily. "Cúkáno did not mean what he said."  
  
Carca lay at the Elf's feet, thinking comforting thoughts. She doubted he would understand, but she suspected that it would help him feel better. Really, dogs are wonderful creatures.  
  
"Legolas? Where are you?"  
  
It was his father. The prince sat up straight, cleared his throat, and then replied, "I'm here, in the rose garden."  
  
Thranduil stepped in through the thicket, and sat down by his son. "This rose garden has always been a comforting place for me."  
  
Legolas leaned against the king and Thranduil put his arm around him. Carca watched fondly. Elves were so cute when they were acting sad and serious.  
  
"The roses are all dead," Legolas said softly.  
  
"But they will bloom again in the summer," Thranduil replied.  
  
"Do you really want me to join the Fellowship?" asked Legolas.  
  
Thranduil answered, in typical Elven style, with a question, "Do _you _want to join the Fellowship?"  
  
"I don't know," said Legolas. "Lord Elrond wants me too, and so does Glorfindel. And this is my chance to see the world."  
  
Thranduil half-smiled, "The darker places of the world."  
  
Legolas smiled back. "Estel will go as well."  
  
"Estel? That scruffy human whose life you helped save fifty years ago?" Thranduil asked. "Is he still around?"  
  
Legolas grinned. "Of course. It would be hard to kill him off."  
  
"I think this is your chance, Legolas. I think you should seize it," Thranduil said.  
  
"I will," Legolas said. "It's just. . .Cúkáno doesn't want me to go. He says I might not come back."  
  
"Did he say that?" For a moment Thranduil looked sad. "I want you to come back, but there is definitely danger in this."  
  
Legolas nodded.  
  
"But there is danger in staying here too," Thranduil continued. "Middle- Earth is very dangerous, and until the Enemy is defeated it will remain so. I want you to do what you can to defeat him. I will be fighting to defend our home here, and you will be fighting to save this world."  
  
Carca smiled. "Go Thrandy," she thought.  
  
Legolas might have been thinking the same thing, though not in the same words. "Thank you, Father," he said. "That helped."  
  
.  
  
The next morning, Glorfindel bustled into Erestor's bedroom cheerfully, heavy-laden with his breakfast on a tray. He halted when he entered the room, though, and looked at his friend fondly. Erestor had flung himself onto the bed and the blankets were a tangled mess about him. The advisor's hair was very black against the soft white pillow. Carca lay at the Elf's feet, her tail twitching as she dreamed.  
  
"Erestor, wake up," Glorfindel whispered out of the side of his mouth. "No one sleeps late here."  
  
Carca opened one eye and watched the golden haired Elf quizzically. Erestor rubbed his own eyes sleepily. "What's happening?"  
  
"Nothing really," Glorfindel said, skipping lightly over the bed and pulling aside the curtains to it, all the while balancing the tray dexterously with one hand. "Eat up, Erestor. We'll be leaving Mirkwood bright and early."  
  
"Does it ever get bright here?" asked Erestor gloomily, peering out of the window into the darkness.  
  
"No, it was a figure of speech. The darkness is probably the reason you slept in, Erestor. It wasn't like you to stay in bed so long," Glorfindel said.  
  
"Yes. Mirkwood is very murky indeed," agreed Erestor, smiling.  
  
Glorfindel perched on the end of bed alongside Carca, holding a slice of fresh bread in one hand, and a mug filled with milk in the other. (The Mirkwood Elves raised several goats and cows and Glorfindel liked to drink milk whenever he could get it.) Meanwhile, Erestor spread some honey over his own slice of bread, and nibbled it from where he lay against the pillow. Carca panted beside him until he gave her a bite as well.  
  
"Is Legolas joining the Fellowship?" asked Erestor after a few minutes, when most of the food had been consumed.  
  
"It looks like it. Apparently, his brother gave him a hard time about it, but he and his father have agreed," Glorfindel said, licking his fingers clean with an air of delight. Carca smiled to herself. The Elf wasn't perfect.  
  
"I am too," Glorfindel thought back, and stuck his tongue out sideways at her. Erestor pretended not to notice. So did Carca.  
  
"Are you ready to go?" the advisor asked.  
  
"Whenever you are," Glorfindel replied, and whisked the tray away.  
  
"Wait." One word from the dark haired Elf halted the other.  
  
"What, Erestor?" Glorfindel asked.  
  
"Are you glad I came? I wasn't just a burden?"  
  
"Erestor," Glorfindel shook his golden head kindly, "you will never be a burden. Never."  
  
Erestor glanced down. "I felt like I was only getting in the way."  
  
"You weren't," Glorfindel said reassuringly. "I needed you."  
  
"Was _I_ getting in the way?" Carca asked.  
  
"You?" came Glorfindel's surprised thought. And then, with a silent chuckle. "You didn't get in the way. . .much."  
  
Carca half-growled, but laughed as well, just as silently. Erestor smiled at the Elf and the dog. "Glorfindel?" he asked. "Does Carca still dislike you?"  
  
Glorfindel shot both of them a dazzling grin. "She's come round."  
  
.  
  
Cúkáno slipped down the stairs to where his brother stood beside Glorfindel and Erestor. "I'm sorry, Legolas. I should not have said the things I did last night," he apologized.  
  
Legolas looked up with relief. "I forgive you, Cúkáno. Your fear for my safety made you speak angrily. I'm sorry myself, Cúkáno, I did not mean the things I said."  
  
"I love you, brother," said Cúkáno. "Please keep safe."  
  
"I will," the Elf answered.  
  
.  
  
The three Elves set off to go back Imladris. Legolas looked grim and resolved, Erestor looked far more cheerful, and Glorfindel looked as bright and vibrant as usual. Carca trotted beside the horses happily. Now that she was leaving Mirkwood, she felt a little relief. The Elves were silent and rarely talked, but Glorfindel thought quite a bit.  
  
"Do you like Mirkwood?" he asked.  
  
"No," Carca replied. "It's dark and repressive."  
  
"Once it was very beautiful, but then darkness fell over it. It used to be called Greenwood."  
  
"Greenwood. That sounds nice."  
  
"It was far more than 'nice', you unimaginative hound." Glorfindel sent Carca a picture of a lovely place with soft greens painting the grass and trees and Elves living happily together without fear.  
  
"It looks so different now. How can Legolas stand it?"  
  
"He loves his home. He would die to protect it."  
  
"Legolas always seems so serious."  
  
"That is because most Mirkwood Elves are serious, especially in front of strangers."  
  
"Like me?"  
  
"Like Erestor. I don't think dogs count."  
  
"I don't think I can imagine him smiling."  
  
Glorfindel sighed mentally. "Let me tell you an interesting story about Legolas."  
  
"All right. I'm listening."  
  
"He was staying in Imladris and he and I were eating lunch by the waterfalls. . . and I accidently fell off the edge. . ." The Elf paused.  
  
Carca grinned delightedly. "Too much miruvor? This promises to be interesting. I'd love to hear a story were you weren't being completely cool and collected the entire time. Do go on."  
  
Glorfindel scowled at her, but continued to ride and think at the same time. "I landed on a mossy ledge about seven ells down (on my feet, by the way), but Legolas didn't know that. He thought I had fallen right off into the water. As he was calling for me, I sneaked up behind him and surprised him."  
  
"Let me guess: he fell over?"  
  
"Exactly. This time _I_ was the one who thought he had a soaking. I was yelling for him, when he pushed me in."  
  
"He _pushed_ you?"  
  
"The water wasn't deep. I was fine. He laughed an awful lot then."  
  
"All this falling doesn't quite seem Elvish to me."  
  
"The moss was slippery."  
  
"So he can smile. That's good to know, Glorfindel."  
  
.  
  
Several long days later, the little company was attacked again, this time by even more spiders than before. This time they were prepared.  
  
Legolas had two knives, and he used both of them skillfully. Carca now knew what technique to use on the spiders and went for their long knobbly legs. Glorfindel was brilliant (as usual) in more ways than one. Not only did he fight the spiders with ease and grace, he even glowed. Carca remembered the comment Perlomë had made about the Elves of Mirkwood and smiled as she fought. The horse had been right. Glowing was a great asset in the darkness of Legolas' home.  
  
The spiders were a bit bigger than Carca remembered. She ducked as best she could when a large one leaped out of the branches onto her.  
  
"I will eat you, dog," the spider thought. Carca snarled at it.  
  
"I am called The Fang," she thought back, taking a few creative liberties, "I have killed many spiders greater than yourself. You will feel my claws."  
  
The spider only hissed in return and Carca pounced at it, swiping skillfully at its many feet, and catching its rough body with her teeth. Suddenly an arrow whipped past her head and buried itself in the spider's side. Carca turned around and glanced at Legolas. He looked as close to being bored as an Elf in a spider attack can. "You stupid Elf," Carca thought grumpily, "can't you see I was dealing with it? Well, that one counts as mine."  
  
The spiders were gone, and many lay dead around them. Suddenly a soft voice spoke, "Glorfindel?"  
  
The Legolas, Glorfindel and Carca turned to where Erestor was standing, his arm a mess of dripping red blood and steaming black venom.  
  
**_TBC_**


	9. The Return

**Both Fang and Fire  
  
by Erestor**  
  
_Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to Lord of the Rings. All the Elves, Men, Hobbits and Dwarves belong to Tolkien. All the dogs and most of the horses belong to me. All mistakes are my own unless I can find someone else to blame them on._  
  
_**CHAPTER NINE  
**_  
"Erestor!" Glorfindel gasped out as he dashed towards to the injured Elf. Carca only felt a dropping sensation, worse than the time when she had fallen down a pothole. This time she was scared.  
  
"It was that. . .spider," Erestor whispered, his eyes turning towards a huge dead monster of an arachnid. "I got it though. . .It made a mess. . .of my arm."  
  
Glorfindel bit his lip nervously. "I'm not a healer, Erestor. I'll do my best."  
  
Erestor's eyes were fogging over. "Legolas, do you know how to treat these wounds?" asked Glorfindel, almost frantically. But not quite. Glorfindel was never frantic.  
  
"Yes," Legolas replied. "You can't let the venom spread."  
  
Carca heard a rustling sound in the trees above her.  
  
"Am I. . . going to. . .die?" asked Erestor, his dilated eyes frightened.  
  
"No," said Glorfindel. "The venom may put you to sleep, but it will not kill you."  
  
"Put to sleep?" Carca thought. All the dogs that she had heard of had died when put to sleep. Maybe it was different for Elves. Suddenly she whirled around. She was sure that there was something threatening nearby. In Mirkwood, that wouldn't surprise her.  
  
Legolas had several bandages his pack. He pulled some out and bound them tightly round the top of Erestor's arm. Then he checked the wound. It was a long jagged gash, beginning to turn a little black with the poison. Even as he worked, the advisor's eyes closed and his breathing became deeper, though still shaky.  
  
"It's serious," Legolas said softly, "but it still won't kill him. Truly these spiders are becoming more dangerous."  
  
Glorfindel poured some of his drinking water onto a bit of cloth and began to clean the wound. "This will delay our return. How long will he sleep?"  
  
"Maybe a day or so. For some Elves it is not so bad. For some Elves it is worse," Legolas shrugged. "He will have a headache when he wakens though."  
  
A spider leapt out the trees, clicking menacingly.  
  
Legolas jumped backwards in one graceful movement, avoiding the spider's sharp sting. Glorfindel dragged his unconscious friend away, reaching for his sword. Carca was barking uselessly, trying to scare it. It looked bigger than the other ones. Perlomë panicked as the spider neared him. His eyes rolled and he reared and stamped, snorting with terror.  
  
Glorfindel turned to see another spider in the act of pulling Erestor into the bushes. He stabbed it angrily, kicking its body away before its blood could stain Erestor's clothes.  
  
Carca finished killing a spider and glanced around anxiously just in time to duck out of the way of another arachnid. Legolas was about to sheath his knife when a fourth spider lowered itself slowly down behind him.  
  
"Look out!" screamed Carca's mind. Legolas did not understand her, of course, but Glorfindel did. He severed the spider's webbing from the branches and it dropped to the ground, bouncing off the earth and onto its feet easily. It latched itself onto Legolas's boot. Glorfindel was afraid to chop the spider so securely fastened to his friend, but Carca did not need to worry about things like that. She pounced on the spider savagely, and it let go. She worried it with her nose until it tried to retaliate, and then Legolas chopped it in half. Carca panted with relief. That had been touch and go.  
  
Glorfindel flashed the dog a smile before gently pulling the limp Erestor unto Asfaloth and turned to Perlomë, Erestor's horse, who had finally calmed. Carca could hear his silent thoughts.  
  
"Your rider is injured, Perlomë. You must follow me instead." "Yes, my lord," replied the horse. Glorfindel turned to Carca.  
  
"Do not worry," he commanded. "Erestor will be all right. We must get to Imladris quickly."  
  
.  
  
Glorfindel and Legolas rode swiftly after that, Carca running alongside them. Sometimes she got very tired, but most of the time the clean pollution-free air kept her going. And her fear for Erestor.  
  
Sometime the second day, Erestor woke up. His head was terribly sore and he felt stiff and uncomfortable.  
  
"Don't worry," Glorfindel said softly. "I have you. You will not fall."  
  
"What happened?" asked Erestor.  
  
"You were bitten," Glorfindel replied, "by an enormous spider. But you killed it. Do you remember?"  
  
"I do now," Erestor answered. "It was very big indeed."  
  
"You were brave."  
  
"Am I getting in the way?"  
  
"What did I say about that? You are not a burden at all. I did not mind carrying you."  
  
"I will ride Perlomë now."  
  
"Do you feel able to do that?"  
  
"Yes. Thank you very much, Glorfindel," Erestor said.  
  
"You're welcome," Glorfindel said, halting Asfaloth and helping his friend down.  
  
.  
  
They entered Imladris triumphantly on the twelfth of December, according to Carca's mental calculations. The Elves did not use the same calender she had been accustomed to. Erestor was still very pale after his injury, but apart from that, well recovered. Lord Elrond met them.  
  
"I will be part of the Fellowship, Lord Elrond," said Legolas softly, "if you still ask it of me."  
  
"I do, if you truly wish to be a part of the endeavor," Elrond replied. He was a kind, tall Elf, very handsome, Carca thought. After a few greetings were exchanged, the Elf-Lord asked, "Have you seen my sons or had word from them?"  
  
"No," Glorfindel shook his head. "They have not returned?"  
  
"They have not. I fear that they have run into trouble," Elrond said. "It would be very like them."  
  
"They will come back soon, I am sure," Glorfindel said. "Sometimes the Dúnadain are hard to find."  
  
"Perhaps that is it," Elrond answered dubiously. "I hope so."  
  
.  
  
The next day, several horses clattered into the courtyard of Imladris. Elladan dismounted, followed by Estel and Elrohir. Carca was barking from where she stood along the pathway.  
  
Erestor hurried down to meet them. "Are you hurt?" he asked. "What happened?"  
  
"Orcs," replied Elrohir, his hard grey eyes flashing sparks. "And wargs."  
  
"We ran into a little trouble. None of us were wounded though," Elladan answered. "Badly," he added. "A few cuts and bruises of course. Nothing serious."  
  
"Thank the Valar," Erestor murmured gratefully.  
  
Glorfindel dashed down the steps as well. "Where is Gath?" he demanded.  
  
Estel sighed sadly. "He is gone."  
  
"Dead?" asked Glorfindel levelly.  
  
"No, but I wish he were. He has the Madness," Elladan said.  
  
A shudder went through the golden haired Elf, but his voice was very controlled. "Oh," he said. And then, "You did not kill him?"  
  
"We could not. He ran away after being bitten by a warg. We did not know he had been infected," said Elrohir. "I'm sorry."  
  
Carca turned sorrowfully away. Her heart was breaking.  
  
.  
  
That night, Gath returned to Imladris.  
  
Carca sensed him before Erestor did. She felt the stir he caused. She heard his howls before the Elf. She knew she would never forget the sound of a dog stricken with the Madness.  
  
She ran swiftly to the courtyard, only to be halted by Erestor, who had bounded along behind just as quickly. "Don't go near him," the advisor whispered.  
  
Carca had already frozen staring at the writhing form in the courtyard. Gath was twisting and turning, foaming at the mouth, and panting horribly. "He is mad," she realized. "He has rabies."  
  
Suddenly Glorfindel had entered the courtyard as well, a silent bright figure surrounded by shadows. Erestor ran to the Elf's side. "Do not go near your dog!" he cried. "The Madness will kill you! It does horrible things to Elves."  
  
Glorfindel shook his head. "Gath will not bite me," he said.  
  
Carca remembered that she had had her rabies shot. The dog could not infect her either. Her every instinct told her to keep away, but she could not. But somehow she sensed that Glorfindel was the one who should stay away. Elves were very much at one with nature, (silly as it sounded) and she figured that rabies would ravage them horribly. She did not want that to happen to Glorfindel.  
  
"Gath," she thought, "are you all right?"  
  
He howled. Carca shivered. "Can you think straight?" she asked.  
  
"I want to die," came his one clear thought amid a jumble of pain. "Let Glorfindel kill me quickly. Please!"  
  
Glorfindel took another step towards his dog. Erestor might have followed, but he looked very afraid. Carca leapt between the mad dog and the Elf.  
  
"Don't touch him, Glorfindel!" she thought frantically. "The Madness would kill you. You must kill _him_."  
  
Glorfindel nodded. "Tell Gath I'm sorry," he thought.  
  
"He will do it, Gath, he will do it."  
  
The sane part of Gath's mind would welcome oblivion, but the rabies made him act differently. The dog half-jumped away, snarling, foam trickling down his once well-groomed face. Glorfindel unsheathed his sword slowly and Carca wondered why he still had it with him.  
  
"Gath," she thought, "I love you." Then she turned and raced back into Imladris as fast as she could, trying desperately to shut off her mind from his last thoughts.  
  
"I love you, Carca," she heard him think back and then she felt an emptiness in her head. He was dead then. Glorfindel had killed him.  
  
.  
  
Erestor came back to his room a few minutes later, walking slowly and thoughtfully. He gently stroked Carca's head. "I'm sorry, Carca," he said quietly. "I'm sorry he had to die."  
  
Carca curled miserably in a corner, her head resting on her paws. If Gath had been allowed to roam Imladris, many Elves might have been infected. That would have meant that many Elves would have died horrible deaths later. She was glad that had not happened. She was glad that Glorfindel had possessed enough common sense to kill his beloved dog. She was glad that she had not had to watch. But the rest of her was very, very sad. Gath had been wonderful, and though at first he had been annoying, she had grown to love him.  
  
"He was too much like Glorfindel for his own good," she thought. "How I loved him."  
  
.  
  
Arwen sat in her room, choosing thread for her new task. She would be sewing a banner and she needed to get to work. Erestor entered suddenly.  
  
"Something is wrong with Carca, Lady Arwen," he said quickly.  
  
Arwen stood. "Carca, the dog?" she asked. "Why are you asking me? Do you think I could be of service?"  
  
"Yes," Erestor said. "I knew that you are a healer. And you have always loved animals. . ."  
  
Arwen smiled. "I will go and examine your dog."  
  
.  
  
A few minutes later, Arwen looked up at Erestor with a grin, quite unlike the serious Elf the advisor had usually seen. "My dear Erestor, Carca is going to be a mother soon. She has been pregnant for some time now. Maybe about two or three weeks. You did not realize until now?"  
  
Erestor sat down on his bed, completely stunned. "Children?"  
  
"Puppies," said Arwen.  
  
Carca looked up at Erestor with a half-smile. She could have told Erestor that herself. . .if she had been able to speak to him. She lay carefully on her side, and planned what brave dog-names she would give her puppies.  
  
Gath's puppies.  
  
**_TBC_**


	10. The Elf

**Both Fang and Fire  
  
by Erestor  
**  
_Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to Lord of the Rings. All the Elves, Men, Hobbits and Dwarves belong to Tolkien. All the dogs and most of the horses belong to me. All mistakes are my own unless I can find someone else to blame them on.  
  
**CHAPTER TEN**_  
  
The nice thing about being a dog was that one could go all over the place, unnoticed and uninhibited. Carca was going somewhere that Mary-Lou (hopefully) never would have dared to enter: Glorfindel's bedroom.  
  
She managed to get the door to open, and squeezed through. Glorfindel was standing in front of his mirror brushing his hair (did Elves do anything else?). In the reflection, Carca could see his face, which looked rather bleak and pale. She felt very sorry for him.  
  
"Glorfindel?" Her hesitating thought seemed to ring in the silence of his mind. He turned around abruptly and stared at her. She had never realized how hard his eyes could be.  
  
"Carca?" He spoke out loud, but very quietly. The dog's ears pricked forward.  
  
"I'm sorry you had to do it," she thought. She didn't know what else to tell him.  
  
"I'm sorry I had to as well," he said. "I'm sorry, Carca."  
  
"You heard the news?" she asked in surprise, aware of his eyes on her now slightly rounded form.  
  
"How unobservant do you take me to be?" he said, a ghost of a smile hovering about his face.  
  
"I should have known that nothing would allude you," Carca said, with a tinge of her old malice. Glorfindel sank back into his bed, dropping the hairbrush carelessly unto a table.  
  
"Gath was a very good friend," he said. "He was my dog for a long time."  
  
Carca lay down on the floor beside his feet.  
  
"Will you remember Gath?" Glorfindel asked. "Do dogs remember?"  
  
"I will remember him," Carca replied gently.  
  
.  
  
One dark, gloomy morning, Carca sat outside in the courtyard, shivering in the cold, trying to think warm thoughts. Arwen stood beside her, her slender hands twisting through the dog's thick fur.  
  
"So this is the Fellowship of the Ring," Carca thought.  
  
There was Strider/Aragorn/Dúnadan/Estel standing in a corner, dirty again. Carca wondered how he did it. There was Legolas, not Glorfindel, looking a bit uncomfortable and self-conscious. There was Boromir, clean now, with a huge shield the size of a very big frisbee. Carca thought longingly about getting her teeth into it, but it looked rather hard. Another man, with lots of hair ("Now he's small too," thought Carca) stood beside the hobbits, holding an axe as though he'd like to whack someone with it. Then there was the old man, Gandalf, who had a big stick that he called a staff. After those five came Frodo, the Ringbearer, Sam, the sneaky but good- hearted hobbit, and two others apparently called Merry and Pippin. And last, but not least, Bill the pony, covered with packs and supplies.  
  
She had held a mental conversation with Bill just the day before. She had asked him if he wanted to go on the quest and help save the world. He had talked just like the sneaky but good-hearted Hobbit. ("I liked Imladris a lot, Miss Carca," he had said. "Leastways, the Elves are wonderful creatures. But I like hobbits, they're familiar-like.") She had told him he probably wouldn't be encountering many familiar things on the trip and he had shaken it off. ("Mr. Samwise won't let me come to no harm, beggin' your pardon, miss.") She had commended his bravery and the pony had practically blushed. Bill would be the animal asset to the Fellowship.  
  
"Nine companions," said Lord Elrond proudly. Carca tried not to think back to the time she'd told Gath the same thing, about nine Fellowshipers. She had wondered if Glorfindel would go, but she had been sure the hobbits would, and Strider. ("And maybe dogs too," Gath had said.)  
  
But she did not want to go with them. Not because it was probably suicide (that was one reason she was glad Glorfindel was staying behind), not because Erestor needed her (she was planning on giving him plenty of puppies to look after) and not because Gath wouldn't be there (thinking of Gath still hurt). It was because it was not her place. Dogs could not change the course of the future (for good, at least). They shouldn't even try. And attempting to become a Fellowshiper would be barging into a business that belonged to this different world. She wasn't from this place, she was from Modern-Earth, where she had been Ginger, Mary-Lou's dog.  
  
"In a way," she thought, "this is my second life. It's Glorfindel's second life too. We're quite alike."  
  
Glorfindel still looked a little pale, but he had been worrying about lots of other things besides dogs. She had seen him hurrying back and forth in Imladris, practically at Lord Elrond's beck and call. He hadn't been sure the Fellowship would work, but he had been prepared to take chances. Glorfindel was still taking chances. Carca thought he probably enjoyed it.  
  
Erestor was standing beside his friend, his arm still bandaged comfortably. He had occasional headaches, but he was well-recovered. ("When are you going to loosen up?" Carca had wondered, with a little disappointment.) He was a kind Elf, and he looked after her well. She shouldn't really have any complaints. . .the dog's eyes strayed back to Glorfindel.  
  
Glorfindel was saying good-bye to Estel, and she wondered what he was thinking. She didn't want to interfere with his mind at this point, at this crucial stage. The Fellowship would be setting out. On this grey, rainy day, anything seemed possible.  
  
Suddenly, a deep ringing noise rattled through Imladris. All the Elves jumped or started to their feet. ("Paranoid creatures," Carca thought irreverently.) Boromir put away his horn. Elrond, though rather annoyed, did not condemn the man's action.  
  
"Anything _is _possible," Carca thought excitedly, her mind stimulated by the brave sound. "This is a wonderful world. I wouldn't be surprised if the Fellowship actually succeeded."  
  
They began to leave. Carca resisted her urge to bark her farewell to them. Instead she swished her tail frantically and encouragingly.  
  
Glorfindel and Erestor watched for a long time, even when the fog should have kept them from seeing properly. Carca wondered what they were looking at, and if they were seeing it. It wouldn't necessarily have to be the Fellowship. Maybe they were thinking about their hopes and dreams. Maybe they were worrying. Maybe they were afraid.  
  
Carca only felt inspired.  
  
"The Enemy likes dogs, I'm sure," she thought optimistically. "I hope. . ."  
  
"Come on," said Glorfindel, running his fingers over her head carelessly. "Let's go."  
  
.  
  
Glorfindel sat down on a step and Carca sat next to him. She felt happy, even if the world was going to be suddenly wiped out. She felt expectant and excited.  
  
"I wonder why I came here," she thought. "Was it because I could make a difference? Was it because I would love it here? Was it because someone was going to fall through that portal and the Valar didn't want to unleash Mary-Lou upon this happy world?"  
  
She thought that the answer was probably 'yes' for all three questions.  
  
"I'm glad Mary-Lou didn't end up here," she smiled to herself. "The poor Elves were already trying to deal with one Enemy. Two might have ruined them."  
  
She tried to imagine what havoc her owner would have wreaked on them, and chuckled. She would have made Glorfindel let her ride Asfaloth. She would have fainted when she saw Them. She would have chased her darling Leggy- Pooh through Imladris. She wouldn't have come to realize that there were other good Elves in the world besides one certain Elf prince.  
  
"I wonder if I'll ever get home," mused Carca. And then, "_Was _Modern- Earth home?"  
  
Home is where the heart is. Hadn't she heard that somewhere? Now she knew what it meant.  
  
Glorfindel grinned sidelong at her. "What are you thinking about?" he asked her softly.  
  
"I'm thinking about how much I love this place," she replied.  
  
"This is when the excitement will start," he said. "You came at a good time."  
  
"Of course I did."  
  
"Of course. You're perfect, right?"  
  
"No, oh wise and beloved Elf-lord, _you're_ the perfect one."  
  
"Look back a little, dear Carca, and you might realize something. You're the one who trotted around with her nose in the air all the time."  
  
Carca thought back and winced. "Maybe I did try to act perfect all the time."  
  
"I suppose dogs can't help it."  
  
"I suppose Elves can't either."  
  
Glorfindel smiled mentally, and of course Carca could feel his amusement. Then he said good-bye to Gath. Gath had been a good dog, but he was dead now. Erestor had always said that Glorfindel became too attached to his pets. Perhaps it was true.  
  
"Carca?" Glorfindel asked. "Do you want to be my dog? Do you want to stay with me until you die?"  
  
Carca was only aware of one thought in her mind now. One emotion that jumped for joy and delight. She turned and licked Glorfindel enthusiastically until he begged for mercy, through his laughter. She would be a good dog and Glorfindel needed someone to keep him company, now that Gath was gone.  
  
"Do you want to be my dog?" he repeated.  
  
As if he needed to ask. Hadn't it been obvious from the start? Carca smiled at him in her strange dog-way and thought, "I do."  
  
**_END PART ONE_**  
  
Meanings to names:  
  
Carca- fang  
  
Gath- shadow  
  
Beleg- mighty  
  
Perlomë- Midnight (or half-night, if you want to be literal)  
  
Aráto- loyal (Legolas needs help with naming his animals too, doesn't he?)  
  
Cúkáno- bow commander  
  
Glorfindel- golden haired (or golden haired horror, depending on how you translate it.)  
  
Asfaloth- I have no clue  
  
Erestor- lonely one (that was the best one I could find. His name is rather vague.)  
  
Legolas- greenleaf  
  
Bill- resolute protector (bet you didn't know that)  
  
Elrond- star dome  
  
Estel- hope  
  
Aragorn- tree king (according a couple wonderful reviewers)  
  
Elladan- man of the stars  
  
Elrohir- star rider  
  
Everyone else's name is irrelevant.  
  
To those who reviewed, thank you! Everything you wrote meant a lot to me, all suggestions were considered, and every compliment encouraged me. I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. 


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